


Intoxicating

by DomesticatedFeral



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bad Boy Stiles Stilinski, Blow Jobs With Teeth, Closeted Jackson Whittemore, Dom Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Oneshot, POV Jackson Whittemore, Smut, Stackson - Freeform, Stiles Stilinski might be a werewolf, Sub Jackson Whittemore, Underage Sex, Underage Smoking, it's up to your interpretation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:21:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27671950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DomesticatedFeral/pseuds/DomesticatedFeral
Summary: "It's just, fuck," Jackson walked closer, "you're intoxicating."
Relationships: Stiles Stilinski/Jackson Whittemore
Kudos: 81





	Intoxicating

The referee blows the whistle ending the lacrosse match for the evening. Jackson throws one last ball and it goes straight into the goal, his ears filled with the sound of the crowd cheering. He smirks, after all, he was the star player, he had to score perfectly.

The rest of the team huddle him, congratulating him for the win and Jackson glances at the benches hoping to see his parents. Nope, they rarely came and Jackson sighs. The team heads to the showers, he was going to take a long one tonight. One perk of Beacon Hills High School hosting the lacrosse matches is that he doesn’t have to use any other locker than his own.

The locker room had only a couple of other kids in there, most of them packing up and leaving until Jackson was alone in the room. He dries up and wears his clothes. He throws his lacrosse uniform in his duffle bag and slings it over his shoulder. He takes his lacrosse stick which was leaning against an empty locker and walks out. He gets in his Porsche and throws his duffle bag and stick on the passenger seat, he drives it down the roads lit with yellow streetlights and the moon.

He speeds up the empty road and drifts his car, it brings him joy to feel his heart racing, his veins pumping adrenaline with the speed. He drifts into another road when his car stops, it’s the second time it stopped like that.

“God damn it.”

Jackson gets out of his car and tries calling for a tow truck, the business was probably closed since it was a little after ten in the night. He thinks about calling his parents but his dad was on a business trip to London and his mom would ask him if he’s called a tow truck yet, so he didn’t.

Jackson kicks the side of his car from frustration, and he stands in the middle of the empty road, trying to think of what to do.

“What’s got such a pretty face so worked up?” someone behind Jackson speaks out.

It prompted Jackson to turn around, it was a boy his age, he wore baggy ripped jeans, a leather jacket and had a cigarette in hand. His face had a few cuts and bruises, a bandaid over his left temple, Jackson could also note that he had beautiful brown eyes.

“N-nothing,” he stuttered out.

The boy rests the baseball bat on his shoulder, “pretty sure it’s the luxurious ass car breakin’ down.”

“And what are you going to do about it?”

His hand grips around the baseball and does a small swing, Jackson’s eyes widen to which the boy laughed at. He drops the cigarette stub to the ground and extinguishes it with his boot.

“Nah, I may love causing trouble, but this is more of the trouble I wanna cause tonight,” he drops his bat and pushes Jackson up against his own car, aggressively kissing him.

Jackson doesn’t do anything against it, sure, he was surprised, but he was interested in what more the boy can give. The taste of cigarette smoke in the boy’s mouth was weirdly alluring to Jackson. The boy grinds his crotch on Jackson, creating friction against each other’s jeans and he felt turned on.

_‘What the fuck? I’m not gay.’_ he thought as he felt his heart crave for more and so did the rest of himself.

The boy pulls Jackson’s shirt collar down and sucks a few hickeys on Jackson’s tender skin on the collarbone before he steps a step back from Jackson. Usually, Jackson would be the one pleasing his girlfriends, giving hickeys, and topping, this was different and he couldn’t help but admit that he loved it.

“Oh, Jackson Whittemore, I always knew you were gay,” he teased, a sly smirk on his face.

“I’m- I’m not.” Jackson weakly defended himself, _‘damn Jackson, way to go.’_

“Sure, lie to yourself, all you want, but deep down, you know you liked that,” he took a few steps back, to walk away.

“Wait!” Jackson said and he stopped walking and turned back to face Jackson, “I didn’t catch your name.”

“Stilinski,” they muttered before walking away, disappearing into the dark night.

_‘Stilinski? The sheriff’s son?’_ Jackson thought.

Jackson puts his hand in his jacket pocket and feels a piece of paper in it. He takes it out and looks at it. It was a number scribbled on it, well two actually. One had no context while the other had the word _‘tow’_ next to it. He guessed the other was the boy’s number, Jackson took his phone out and called the number for the tow truck, and it was answered, they were coming to tow his car and in the meantime, Jackson saved the other number to his phone.

The tow truck comes and tows his car to the garage, he grabs his stuff from the passenger seat and walks home from the garage. It was late, nearing eleven now and Jackson slowly walks up the house stairs and walks in. It was dark, his mother must have gone to sleep, he walks to his room where he cleans himself up and jumps into bed.

He stares out the window, at the moon and thinks about the Stilinski boy and what had gone down tonight in a dimly lit street.

* * *

The next day, he enters the cafeteria for lunch and takes his tray, he scans the room and sees the Stilinski boy, who is sitting alone. Jackson walks with his tray to his table, where he kisses his current girlfriend, Lydia, a small peck. Danny sat across and a few other lacrosse players sat in the rest of the seats.

“Dude, you look like something’s bothering you?” Danny asks.

“No, I’m fine, just stressed about the final match tomorrow night,” he lies.

“It’ll be fine, besides, you’re the star player, you’ll make us the winning team.”

Jackson smirks, “of course. I will.”

His eyes kept glancing towards the boy who sat right where Jackson could see him. Had he always come here or did Jackson just never notice him? He can’t be blamed, there are about 5,000 kids in the school, he can’t meet them all or remember them all.

He watches the boy get up from his seat and walk out of the cafeteria, inviting Jackson to come with him. Jackson excuses himself, saying he needs to use the bathroom, and walks out, he follows the Stilinski boy into the bathroom which was conveniently empty at the moment.

"Look, what do you want? If it's money, how much?"

"Money? Really? That’s what you think I want?” he asked, walking closer to Jackson with a little pout on his face, “the question is, what do you want, Jackson? Why did you go out of your way to follow me to the bathroom?”

“Because you looked like you were inviting me to.”

“I didn’t, the most I did was glance at you, and that was all I had to do so you would follow me,” his eyes darted from Jackson’s eyes to his lips, “and to make you crave for this.”

The boy kisses Jackson, tightly gripping Jackson’s hair at which Jackson lets out a small moan. He lets out a small chuckle before sliding his tongue in Jackson’s mouth.

They parted and Jackson panted for breath, the boy left him with barely any breath. The bell rings signifying the end of lunch.

“Well, that’s my cue to leave, see you later, Jackson,” he ruffles Jackson’s hair before leaving.

Jackson fixes his hair back up and makes sure the hickey he got from the boy last night remained covered by his hoodie. He should’ve covered it with his mom’s makeup or something, he had lacrosse practice today.

* * *

At lacrosse practice, Jackson hesitantly takes his hoodie off and Danny notices the three bruises on Jackson’s collarbone.

“Wild night with Lydia?”

“Y-yeah,” Jackson said as he slipped his lacrosse shirt on.

“I thought she hated giving hickeys?”

“Well, uhh, she did last night.”

Jackson prayed Danny would drop it and he did, they both headed out onto the field and Jackson could see the Stilinski boy, standing near the bleachers. Lydia wasn’t there, she never stuck around for practice but she did show up for matches, unlike his parents.

The whistle startled Jackson who had been staring at the Stilinski boy way more than he should have. He begins sprinting with the rest of the team, sprinting faster than anyone, overtaking all of them one by one.

During the whole practice, while it wasn’t Jackson’s turn to throw the ball, he’d glance at the boy who would sit at the bleachers.

As Jackson walked to the locker room at the end of practice, Danny caught up to him.

“How come Stiles was watching us at practice?”

“Who’s Stiles?”

“The sheriff’s son, usually he’d be suspended for pulling some dumb stuff, but he seems to be back in school and staying in school.”

“Huh... I don’t know.”

Jackson drops his duffel bag on the bench and opens his locker. He takes his towel and waits for the showers to free up. Danny heads in before and leaves earlier too, his grandmother had flown over from Hawaii and she wanted to spend more time with her grandson.

Jackson walks out of the showers to see Stiles, resting against the wall, throwing a lacrosse ball into the air and catching it effortlessly with his hand.

“Shouldn’t the sheriff’s kid be the most disciplined of them all?”

“Not if the sheriff drinks a fuck ton of whiskey.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be, the least people can do is stop saying that fucking word, like it’s going make it all better. Unlike others, you got something I want.”

“What is it?”

“I know you want me, you want my bite so bad, you would give everything in the world if nothing were holding you back,” Stiles was close to Jackson, their lips brushed against each other and they breathed in each other’s air.

Jackson couldn’t hold it, the craving inside him was torturous, this time, it’s him that kisses Stiles, the craving only chanting _‘more, more, more’_ with each movement.

“Fuck,” Stiles mutters as he pulls away abruptly.

“Why the hell did you do that?”

“Someone’s coming.”

“How the hell-” Jackson was confused, he didn’t hear any footsteps, Stiles hid in the showers, while Jackson remained in place, quickly putting on his clothes.

The locker room door opened a while later, it was Coach.

“Whittemore, you’re still here?”

“Yes, coach?”

“Get outta here, it’s late.”

Jackson managed to close his locker and take his duffle bag and stick before Coach held him by the shoulders and walked him out of the locker room.

“I don’t get paid enough to lock up after you kids.”

Jackson slowly walks down the hallway as Coach walks back into the locker room, Jackson hears Coach bring Stiles out and Jackson turns around to see Coach bring Stiles out of the locker room.

“You too, Stilinski, go home.”

“Did you really have to pull me by my fucking shirt collar?”

“Language. I hope to see you at economics tomorrow, or not, I don’t really care.”

Stiles huffs and walks down the hallway while Coach heads into his office. Jackson waits for Stiles and they walk together.

“How did you know Coach was coming? He isn’t even that heavy-footed to hear him walk down the hallway.”

“Well, that just goes to say that you’re deaf.”

“I’m not.”

“Sure, whatever you say, pretty boy Whittemore,” Stiles smirks.

Jackson rolls his eyes at him.

* * *

Jackson brings Stiles home, not because Stiles said to, but because Jackson wanted to. Lydia didn’t have any plans set for Jackson and her, so Jackson had the night to himself, and that meant, he craved the touch of the bad boy.

His parents weren’t home when he arrived, which was great for tonight’s circumstances. Stiles, unlike any other guest he brought over, didn't gawk at the modern interior of his house, instead, Stiles was more interested in Jackson.

"Room, now."

Jackson hated authority from anyone his age, but Stiles could demand him to get on his knees and Jackson would do so. Jackson quickly shows Stiles to his room to which Stiles shuts the door and turns around to face Jackson.

Jackson could notice the big- that's an understatement- he could notice the gigantic bulge in Stiles' jeans.

Stiles kisses Jackson, his hand casing through the dirty blonde hair while Jackson's hands supported Stiles' nape and ran through the fuzzy buzzcut Stiles had.

Stiles sucks on the side of Jackson's neck, teeth sinking into the skin as he gave Jackson a love bite. Jackson moaned with pleasure as it tingles up his spine, making the hairs at the back of his neck stand up. Stiles pushes Jackson down to a kneel.

"Take my jeans off, with your teeth."

Jackson nods, his submissive side rolling over in the pleasure of being commanded on what to do.

The last time he had this much fun was when he drunkenly hooked up with a dominant male at a Halloween party. It was 2 nights before Jackson started his relationship with Lydia, the school's most popular girl.

_'Jackson, focus on right now. Teeth, jeans, pull it down,'_ he reminded himself.

Jackson struggled to undo the button but he finally did, he pulled the zipper down and pulled the pants down, the bulge was more prominent with only the thin black fabric of Stiles' boxers covering it.

"Boxers too, don't be such a slow shit."

Jackson gently pulls the boxers down, using his lips instead of teeth, he didn't want to hurt Stiles.

"Good boy, now, open up."

Jackson's ears tingle at the praise and he opened up, Stiles took not even a second to spare, jamming the cock into Jackson's mouth, hitting the back of his throat. Lucky for Stiles, Jackson didn't have a weak gag reflex.

Jackson sucks on Stiles' cock, lubing it up with his saliva and moving it in and out of his mouth.

"Fuck, Jackson." Stiles grunts as Jackson's teeth grazed a little on Stiles’ cock.

Jackson keeps his tongue firmly pressed on the underside and he pleasured Stiles, his moans and hisses bringing a hard-on in himself as well.

Jackson loved it when Stiles grabbed on to his hair, gripping tight when Jackson would play with the tip of Stiles' cock with his tongue. Jackson's hands made themselves home raking his fingernails on Stiles' chest and hips.

"I want you to look at me while I come inside you. Look at me." Stiles ordered, his eyes staring down at Jackson.

Jackson looks at Stiles and they remain eye contact as the warm fluid pumps into the back of Jackson's throat.

"Swallow."

Stiles pulls out and Jackson swallows the salty cum down his throat. He sits down on his feet, his knees shook from holding him up like that on the hardwood floor.

Stiles pulls his boxers up but shakes off his jeans, Jackson hears the sliding door of his balcony open, a soft breeze rolls in, hitting the sweaty nape of Jackson's like a blessing.

Jackson stands back up, taking his shirt off which was sticky with his sweat. Stiles was leaning against the balcony wall, a freshly lit cigarette in his hand.

"What?" Stiles looks at Jackson who stood at the doorway of the balcony.

"It's just, fuck," Jackson walked closer, "you're intoxicating."

Stiles smirks and huffs out a breathy laugh before putting the cigarette to his lips.

He inhales it and puts it down, he blows the smoke out and turns to Jackson, "a lot of people say addicting, but that word is way overrated, I like this one better. Intoxicating."

"It describes you pretty well," Jackson leans on the balcony wall, next to Stiles.

"Aren't you such a model student, Whittemore?" He teased.

"And you're such a trouble that I can't not involve myself in."

"Opposites attract."

Jackson smirks, _'they sure do.'_

* * *

[link to mood board on Tumblr](https://domesticated-feral.tumblr.com/post/635508622870380544/mood-board-for-my-stackson-one-shot-fic-title)

**Author's Note:**

> Well, well, well, we got ourselves another little one-shot I wrote during Nanowrimo, and this time with the added bonus of a mood board.


End file.
